Archives: Underworld

„Sat in the corner of the Garden Grill, with plastic flowers on the window sill / No more miracles, loaves and fishes, / been so busy with the washing of the dishes / Reaction level’s much too high – I can do without the stimuli / I’m living way beyond my ways and means, living in the zone of the inbetweens / I can see the flashes on the frozen ocean, static charge of the cold emotion / Watched on by the distant eyes – watched on by the silent hidden spies.“